Shawn of the Dead
by Bladestar123
Summary: In which Shawn and Gus find themselves on an unknown planet. Aliens have never looked so adorable.


"That's the key."

"_Yes_ Shawn." Gus snapped. "_That_ is the key."

"Gus." Shawn looked like he was wrestling with his words. Or his breakfast.

He took a nibble. Alien Gooseberry tasted an awful lot like Normal Gooseberries. Another tick for the 'In Media Res Scobo' theory.

"Gus." Shawn tried again, clearing delicious jam sandwich from his throat. "Pardon me if dwarfism has become a genetically _common_ trait in this alien hellscape we've found ourselves in-"

"-or hallucination-"

"- _or_ hallucina- _Gus come on!_ We've tested this! It's not a hallucination!" Shawn threw his arms up, sending his uneaten crust spinning mournfully across the dusty street. Gus turned to glare.

"You could've eaten that Shawn."

"I could have." He acknowledged. "But I didn't. Alas."

Gus got in his face. "_I_ would've eaten that Shawn. We're _not_ in Santa Barbara anymore-"

"Maybe."

"-_maybe_, so we can't afford to waste good food like that!"

"Come on man!" Shawn whined. "You were whining about how _full _you were like 10 minutes ago!"

"That was _10 minutes ago_ Shawn. I'm _hungry_."

"Doesn't matter, not like it's being wasted." Shawn pointed to a particularly ornery beggar kicking the shit out of a gargantuan horse that found the mind to pick at the crust. The massive beast barely shifted, flicking its ears, but the elderly man in rags found the leverage to snatch at the barely-jammy rind and squirrel it away.

"That is disgusting." Shawn observed. "I almost regret throwing that crust."

Gus thumped him in the chest. "That's _my food! _He took my food! Go get it back Shawn, you threw it away."

"Gus, he's starving! I'm not taking a crust from a literal homeless dude. Besides, it's a crust." Shawn made a crude gesture with his hands. "Crusts are barely food. In fact, they're so close to being raw grain you could probably classify them as a vegetable. I hate vegetables." He shuddered. "God, I think I hate them _more_ now. Picture it gus. Every time you bite into a really thick crust, it's firm and crispy like _dry celery-_"

Shawn couldn't dodge the blow to his gut fast enough.

"Gus why." He gasped.

"I'm _not _letting you ruin sandwiches for me Shawn." Gus hissed. "I've always eaten the rind, it's my favorite part. It's the breadiest, carbiest part of the entire affair. It's basically the dessert part of the meal. They're _delicious_."

Shawn gaped openly. "You can't be serious. That's disgusting."

"Not as disgusting as this city." Gus wrinkled his nose. "_Open_ plumbing Shawn. My skin's gonna dry out. This place is horrible."

"Aha!" Shawn victoriously crowed. "You admit it's real!"

It took Gus a moment to rewind far enough.

"That's not fair!" He got out eventually. "That's not fair Shawn. You can't restart a conversation that old."

"Can too."

"It's not allowed. Statute of Limitations. That conversation _expired_ Shawn."

"What?" Shawn wrinkled his nose. "You can't say that. There's no statute of limitations on conversational topics."

"_Bank Robbery_ has an expiration date." Gus countered. "I don't see why a stale topic doesn't."

"That's not-" Shawn racked his brains and drew a blank. He folded immediately. "It's gotta be longer than 5 minutes at least, right?"

"No."

"_Shit_."

Gus looked smug. That was unacceptable. How _dare _he.

Shawn cast his mind around for something to humiliate Gus with; how hard could it possibly be?

Instead, he spotted an even older topic of conversation.

"Hey, hey Gus."

"Not now Shawn." Gus readjusted his somewhat forlorn suit. "I'm getting my G-time in."

"Your _G-_time?"

Gus rolled his eyes. "I'm _gloating_ Shawn."

"Never call it that again."

Gus clicked his tongue. Shawn smacked him gently on the shoulder to get his attention back.

"_Gus_. Look." He thrust a finger ahead. Gus looked lost.

"_What_."

"The key." Shawn jabbed his finger more insistently. "Your key, remember?"

"Oh." Gus's eyes cleared. "Yeah, you mean the, uh-"

"The _literal high schooler, _yeah."

"What about him. It."

Shawn shot him a dry look. "_It_, is walking this way."

"Ah." Gus thought about it. "That's not good."

"_Why?_"

"He's bad luck." Gus patted his chest pocket, then a second time with more urgency and a third with something approaching panic.

Then he stopped, slowly turning to Shawn.

"Shawn."

"Yes Gus?"

"Where is my guaranteed bad-luck dispersion enchanted green jade crystal pendant?"

"The one you use for that office feng-shui stuff? I sold it."

Gus's eye twitched a little. "_Why?_"

Shawn thought about it, then waggled the second jam sandwich he'd kept on hand.

"I hate you." Gus informed him primly.

"We were starving!" Shawn objected.

Gus glared back. "Then sell your _own_ stuff."

"I can't sell anything on me, I need it all!"

"The green toy soldier?

"It has sentimental value!" Shawn insisted. "Very valuable for countering Alien... juju."

Gus glanced impatiently ahead, stopping and widening his eyes as a white-tracksuited fellow continued to get closer.

"He's almost here Shawn!" Gus hissed, eyes widening. "What do we do?!"

"Don't worry, I got this." Shawn cracked his fingers, and started waggling his fingers. "Gimme Magic Head."

Gus slapped roughly at Shawn's hand. "No! Absolutely not!"

"Gus, that's our _bit_ man!"

"We're on another _world_ Shawn." Gus swept a hand over the lively market around them, full of riotous colors and people of all shapes and sizes. Even as they watched, a child stumbled by with ears larger than Shawn's hand. Gus jabbed Shawn in the chest. "This _isn't_ the Santa Barbara PD, Lassie and the Chief _aren't_ here to put us with the murderers in a nice big cell with no windows. You can _stop _with the bit Shawn."

"Huh." Shawn dropped his hands in shock. "Yeah, that's true."

"Exactly." Gus grinned. "We can go legit. Be respectable. Pick up _classy _women."

Shawn was still nodding in awed agreement when the Asian kid dressed in obviously other-world clothing approached. "Uh, hello?" He tried nervously. "Are, are you..." he lowered his voice. "Are you from _my, _I mean, the _Other _world?" He looked somewhat terrified by the concept. Or thrilled. Or scared. Something like that.

"Looking for someone to share the burden with, eh?" Shawn winked knowingly. "Girl got you down?"

"No- I mean," the boy seemed flustered. "Well yeah, but that wasn't what I approached you yo ask but yeah it's true but not what I meant or anything and-" he cut himself off, and took a deep breath. "How did you _know_ that?"

"Oh I'm psychic." Shawn put a hand to his head and waggled the other one before clamping it firmly to Gus's unwitting skull. "Shawn Spencer, psychic detective. This is my associate-cum-mystic foci, Xavier Blackburton."

Gus roughly tore Shawn's hand off, seizing him by the shoulder, and whipping them both around to face away from the asian boy, who looked alternatively thrilled and deeply disappointed.

"_Shawn!_" He hissed. "_We had an agreement! No more psychic-_"

"_This is more fun though._" Shawn chortled. "_Come on, it's great. You know you love it_." He whipped around, grinning widely at the asian boy. "You need a mystery solved, I'm your guy."

"Oh yeah?" The boy swallowed heavily. "You can solve mysteries? Murders?"

"Never fear my finely-accented friend, I _specialize_ in murders. Agitates the ghosts of the astral realm or something." Shawn paused and scratched the back of his head. "Temperamental buggers, really."

"Okay." The boy sighed heavily, before gathering his energy. "Alright, it's worth a shot I guess."

"That's the spirit!" Shawn cheered. Gus whimpered a little behind him, a mumbled mournful _classy women_ floating past his ear.

"Alright. The name's-nevermind." He looked increasingly nervous, eyes darting side to side, before refocusing in Shawn with an eerie intensity. "I need you to solve a murder - but it hasn't happened yet."

"Wha-_hey_!" Shawn snapped. "Well, who is it? Tell us more, maybe we can-"

But the boy was already shaking his head. "You can't protect him." He croaked. "Won't work, but look- just try to solve it when it comes up. _Promise_ me." He was already backing up, pushing through the crowd with an ease that Shawn didn't _have_, there were too many _details he wasn't used to this new place he already couldn't catch up_, "Promise me, please."

"Whose is it?!" He hissed irritably. "Who's the victim?!"

"Me."

And then he was gone. Shawn stared after him, somewhat dumbstruck.

He turned to Gus.

"Did you see that?"

Gus tilted his hand a bit. "Kinda."

Shawn stared at him. "He's gonna die, and he _knows_ it? And his first thought is to commission a premortem _investigation?_"

Gus shrugged. Shawn struggled with frustration, Gus's mild face boiling it over.

"What was _yours_ then?" He snapped.

Gus raised a brow.

"Your reason!" Shawn insisted. "You wanted him too! Gave him a little pet name and everything, what did you want him for?"

"Oh right. That." Gus looked around covertly. They were surrounded by people.

Undaunted, Gus leaned in. "Look Shawn, I want you to promise me. If something happens to me, I want you to do something."

Shawn felt the concern grow stronger. "What?"

"Kill that kid." Gus said bluntly.

Shawn stared at him. "What?!"

"Do it." Gus insisted.

"Are you for _real_ man? We're probably getting probed by aliens _right now_, and your solution is to jump to _homicide?"_

"Look Shawn, I don't wanna die." Gus jabbed a finger in the direction the kid vanished. "So if I die, promise me you'll murder him."

"That's stupid." Shawn's eyes narrowed. "Man, are you _listening _to _yourself_? This is _crazy _man. Is this some kind of elaborate revenge fantasy? Are you gonna, like, fake your death to set me up?" Shawn paused. "You are, aren't you. You're trying to set me up 'cause you found a girl."

"What?!" Gus immediately turned away. "No."

"It is!" Shawn howled. "You found a girl and you're setting me up with a murder rap so you don't need to tell me why someone else is the best man at your wedding!"

Gus looked vaguely guilty for a second, before snapping back to cold, cold condescension. "That's stupid Shawn. You're stupid."

"Ah ah ah! Narrowed eyes, sweating, visible gulping, you're even doing that stupid thing with your lip again!" Gus's hand flew up to cover his face, but it was too late. Shawn was nearly hopping with rage. "You've thought about it! You considered it!"

"I would _never_!"

"You sicken me, liar."

"You sicken _me."_

"You're sick."

"Suck it."

"No _you_ suck it."

"No _you-_"

"Sirs." Thick hands clamped on their shoulders. Shawn and Gus turned to come eye-to-eye with a stern policeman-seeming fellow. "Are you vagrants?"

"No." "Obviously _not_."

"Then." The policeman forced himself to sound polite. "_Cease_ disrupting the order in the market."

Gus clicked his tongue. "Damn."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go find that kid."


End file.
